★ Kopenhaga PDF / Epub ✪ Author Grzegorz Wróblewski – Dcrjservices.co.uk

★ Kopenhaga  PDF / Epub ✪ Author Grzegorz Wróblewski – Dcrjservices.co.uk chapter 1 Kopenhaga , meaning Kopenhaga , genre Kopenhaga , book cover Kopenhaga , flies Kopenhaga , Kopenhaga 207737eb74581 Kopenhaga Is The First Comprehensive Collection Of Prose Poetry By Grzegorz Wr Blewski, One Of Poland S Leading Contemporary Writers The Book Offers A Series Of Vignettes From The Crossroads Of Politics And Culture, Technology And Ethics, Consumerism And Spirituality It Combines Two Tropes The Emigrant S Double Identity And The Ethnographer S Search For Patterns While Ostensibly Focused On Denmark, It Functions As An Investigation Of Alterity In The Post Cold War Era Of Ethnic Strife And Global Capitalism Whether He Writes About Refugees In Copenhagen One Of Europe S Major Transnational Cities , Or The Homeless, Or The Mentally Ill, Or Any Other Marginalized Group, Wr Blewski Points To The Moral Contradictions Of A World Supposedly Without Borders There Is Something Strange And Indecent About People Who Suddenly Dispose Of Their Libraries Recently, The Well Off R Appeared At My Door With A Carton Of Books He Is Moving And There Is No Space For Them In His New Apartment Which Is Probably Bigger Than The Previous One This Is How Formyby Tadeusz R Zewicz Czytelnik, Warsaw St Edition Ended Up In Christianshavn Last Sentence Of The Volume Amid All This Din We Walk Toward Silence, Toward ExplanationGrzegorz Wr Blewski, Born In In Gdansk And Raised In Warsaw, Has Been Living In Copenhagen Since He Has Published Ten Volumes Of Poetry And Three Collections Of Short Prose Pieces In Poland Three Books Of Poetry, A Book Of Poetic Prose And An Experimental Novel In Denmark A Book Of Selected Poems In Bosnia Herzegovina And A Selection Of Plays His Work Has Been Translated Into Fifteen Languages His Poems In English Translation Appear In Many Journals, Anthologies, And Chapbooks, As Well As In Two Collections Our Flying Objects Equipage Press, And A Marzipan Factory Otoliths, Translator Piotr Gwiazda Has Published Two Books Of Poetry, Messages Pond Road Press, And Gagarin Street Washington Writers Publishing House, He Is Also The Author Of James Merrill And WH Auden Homosexuality And Poetic Influence Palgrave Macmillan, He Is An Associate Professor Of English At The University Of Maryland Balti County UMBC Alien To Joycean Effulgence, Kopenhaga Is Nonetheless A Book Of Silence, Exile, And Cunning Silence Instead Of Moralizing In The Face Of Modernity S Indignities Exile From Native Land And Language Cunning In Cajoling These Conditions To Sing A New Song, One Lacking In All Jubilation, Still Somehow Victorious In The Absolute Character Of Defeat Grim, Glancingly Beautiful, Always Necessary Joshua Clover Wr Blewski Is The True Poetic Chronicler Of Our St Century Diaspora In All Its Absurdities And Anxieties Kopenhaga, His Book Of Aphoristic Prose Poems, Pulls Out All The Rhetorical Stops To Present Us With A Relentless, Sardonic, And Hilarious Picture Of A Culture At Once Highly Particular And Yet Anyculture As Insane As It Is Public Spirited And Kindly Kopenhaga Is A Journey To The End Of The Night That Always Makes A U Turn In The Middle, To Take In The Latest Folly And Also Self Rescue Mission Of The Transplant Read It And Weep And Then Laugh Marjorie Perloff Wr Blewski Has Written One Of The Most Important Books Of Our Time These Are At Once Unsettling And Comforting, Timely And Wryly Moving Poems About The Laughable Annoyances, Limited Joys, And The Never Fully Present Sorrows Of Cosmopolitanism, The Life Of The Citizens Of The World Gwiazda Has Rendered This Study In A Language Full Of Water And Shouting And Whalers I Can Think At The Moment Of No Better Book For You To Read In This Our Immense And Always New Copenhagen Gabriel Gudding

10 thoughts on “Kopenhaga

  1. says:

    This is one of those touchstone books for me I mean the kind of book that sits on my best shelf with my favourite books of all the ages.Surreal rooted in the everyday Surreal rooted in the historical Letters from a human being from the Milky Way but currently somewhere between Denmark and Poland and many other places too.The absurd grounded in memoir, in theatre, in language play, in characters, in setting, in personal suffering, in alienation, in existentialist philosophy, in punk music, in animals and shamanism and in underground documentary films And Much .These are prose poems The absurd grounded in play In NY School Poetics and the Brulion group that emerged in Krakow But it is also not Brulion or any other movement or group.It is outsider art Outsider writing.It moves through this Brulion group and the surge in creativity in the city of Krakow to emerge on an immigrant ship in Copenhagen full of folks from Asia, Africa, central and eastern Europe etc.It is the desire to start anew but never being at home.It is the punk aesthetic of 70 s and 80 s Warsaw.It is cooked and it is raw It is classical and it is energised rock and roll It has the light touch of say Ron Padgett, the urbanism of Frank O Hara, and all the best of the Greek classics It is amazingly and lovingly translated into English by Piotr Gwiazda.Piotr Gwiazda is one hell of a translator I even liked the introduction I rarely like introductions Kopenhaga has a nice introduction to the genius of Grzegorz Wroblewski.It is an unlikely book.I mean no machine could have wrote this book.It is also folk music I mean deep down folksy blues music.Imagine a mix tape of all your favourite music in blues, folk, rock, punk This is Kopenhaga.Imagine Kafka in the late 20th and early 21st century mixed with your favourite 1st or 2nd generation NY School poet This is Kopenhaga.Imagine your favourite 1st generation European Surrealist French, central European, or eastern European This is Kopenhaga.Imagine if Norman Rockwell wrote punk music This is Kopenhaga.Imagine a national geographic special narrated by Camus This is Kopenhaga.It sticks It bears many many re reads It is not stuffy It is heavy and light It is everything I have always wanted from art And Much I feel like re doing most of my star reviews on Goodreads and reducing them to 4 stars so that this book is one of the few with 5 stars.That s how much I love this book.I felt less alone after reading this

  2. says:

    Where are you from Where are you from Hvor kommer du fra The most common question, by Copenhagen standards Where did you come from How long have you lived here Hvor kommer du fra I was in Grolier s, investigating the Polish Poets section when Recommender Extraordinaire, Elizabeth Doran, suggested Grzegorz Wroblewski He s like the Polish James Ta And before she could get out the finale te in Tate , my frequent drinking partner and poetry related accomplice, Dean, had snatched the book out of my hand Stop drinking and you will instantly shed false friends Your heart will gain strength and you will get that long awaited erection We went back to my house, me with some other book which I probably enjoyed, and Dean with Wroblewski s Kopenhaga where all the italicized text is fromin this review.I do not mean to imply that all the italicized text in the world hail from Copenhagen or Wroblewski s fingers We drank quite a bit of whiskey Stop drinking is what you will tell him at the end of your life as the pearly gates open and started reading some of Wroblewski s work aloud.It wasn t just the whiskey The mostly justified prose poems in this book were perfectly timed with our afternoon Has something serious happened my Copenhagen friends ask No, nothing serious., I answer, opening a new bottle of pink Lambrusco Nothing serious has happened yet, so far things are going fine Kopenhaga starts out as a straightforward memoir in Polaroids Brief glimpses at the life of a Polish man living in Denmark Conversations with his wife, an accounting of the type of Non Danish people living in Copenhagen, a woman at a bus stop The longest poem is a page and a half All straight forward, mostly prose But amongst the memoir, small cracks of non melancholy unhappiness, seeds of discomfort that can t help but grow into the spikey weeds of a happily and dissatisfying mundane life First thoughts, morning thoughts I m alive This means I have to eat something Later Has anyone ever managed otherwise Again I really have to eat something Someone Something After all I m alive This means I have to eat something Something Someone Today instead of letters ads for meat Apparently I did not deserve letters.I have had all of those mornings Replace ads for meat with stacks of circulars for computers I want but can t afford and you ve just described every time I ve opened my mailbox for the last several years A long and eventful life The doctors make no bones about itYour blood cholesterol 350 You must go on a diet immediately Reduce your intake of alcohol and start playing sports again Unless nothing matters to you any.I started to question whether Wroblewski had gathered my imaginary primary care provider that s early 21st century American for doctor and my subconscious into his manuscript to mock my current life.No, these were just paragraphs torn from the journal of a Polish man living in Copenhagen which could easily be paragraphs torn from the journal of an American man living in America Both were living in a foreign country they d grown accustomed to, even though they frequently felt out of place there.Maybe he was mocking me If any of us are ghosts, said Mary, it will soon come to light Meanwhile, everyone pretended to be alive.When I was living in Burlington, Vermont surely an even foreign country than Boston, Massachusetts a poet went on a diatribe about not wanting to live in the meanwhile He preferred the nicewhile While I ve never enjoyed the nicewhile, I have definitely appropriated his idea I frequently talk about living in the tepidwhile, the frustratedwhile, the shitwhile, the contentedwhile, the yeswhile I was residing in the whiskeywhile when Dean, having wrested control of the book from me again, let out a sharp cry that somehow managed to convey shock, adoration, enlightenment, disappointment, crushing self realization, and the desire to share a common experience He read aloud You will survive in the minds of distant relatives and cousins, in their memories of you Motherfuckers What if they deliberately choose to forget you And then, when they also depart, you will be no .Well, shit.And then, immediately following that December 1998 The whole world rejoices The whole worldbut me These two poems, Dean announced, were his favorites.A few pages later, arrived at my favorite brief poem in the book At the end of the day I m seized by the fear of suddenly falling asleep, at the end of the night by the fear of suddenly waking up. Sure, Wroblewski, I thought, just sum up my existence in one sentence That s fine As long as you don t then talk about how many of my friends and contemporaries as in the pedestrian people my own age not as in the egotistical people I share genius with have died in the last year Today s phone call about the funeral They re starting to pick off our shelf I stared at the book for a moment, then passed it back to Dean The whiskey said Fuck Wroblewski Life is not happy these days, but the key is knowing how to position yourself always be at the right bench at the right time Especially in summerOk Stay out of politics for God s sake, for politics is only good for shortsighted people in unironed silk shirts.Fine Fine Advice is nice when it s brief and obvious Especially when it s so obvious that you ve spent most of your life ignoring it I realized that reading these poems out loud to Dean and having him read other poems from the book out loud to me was a welcome change from what had become my usual topic of conversation complaining about shitheels what done me wrong, making jokes out of the bones jutting out of my skin, turning my frown upside down while also angling my brows like an aroused butterfly Franklin I thought Franklin being the imaginary person whose name I took in vain, so as not to pester the constantly beleaguered Jesus It s so much easier to talk about poets these days when I ve never had to encounter them as human beings Never had to read about the offensive thing they hopefully said accidentally Never had to worry about the possibility of them having said the offensive thing on purpose never had to imagine if they would stand behind their statement Never had to put myself in their underwear with the Target logo on the crotch I thought about expressing the sentiment to Dean, but he was and continues to be a poet I had to encounter as a human being, so I took the book back A benefactor is not a person who gives money to drunkards, but a person who tries to swindle them out of it There are plenty of ways to rationalize your own degradation and downfall The book had become so simultaneously and less a memoir It was life told in Fortune Cookie strips I drank whiskey Thought about the strangers I had let become the most important people in my life The guy with the mustache walking away I guess I could catch up with him and ask whether he keeps a python in his house, or likes to suck nectar from flowers Of course we have no other ideas We want to come up with something relatively neutralEven sausage would seem to him suspect So we remain, each in his place Cosmic alienation He knew very well I was thinking about him He spat a bulldozer telepathI realized that each of us Dean and I, not Grzegorz were only reading aloud the introspective, personal poems There were also references to The World Outside Of I Poems of Kosovo, and The Heaven s Gate cult Franklin Dean had no memory of Heaven s Gate Were we not sharing the poems about cultural references because we didn t really share cultural references , Y2K, the treatment of the elderly in Denmark We spoke none of them aloud Only the intrapersonal Perhaps because that was the only language we spoke in common The best strategy is to feign muteness Or as Steve did to retreat to your roots, your native language Steve is from London After twenty years in Copenhagen, after twenty years of patiently answering the question Hvor kommer du fra Steve finally broke down These days he speaks only London slang And no one understands him any No one even tries to understand him At least Steve is a free man I envy him.And then, as though he had sensed my inner monologue, or, perhaps, because we were reading the book chronologically, and with the exception of the above paragraph, I ve been presenting you with the book from page one to page last Dean read aloud a poem about Jennicam.org which tells of a non porn site If instead of jennicam you write jenny cam or net instead of org you ll end up with porn where you can watch a woman live her entire life in front a webcam For a free visit to Jenni, you get a new picture every twenty minutes For 15 a year, every two minutes.This was clearly meta commentary Post modernism Self aware metaphor for self See how we talk about ourselves and we talk about other people Oh, Franklin s Father I think Is it possible to read anything any without trying to parse it intellectually Curse the stupid, well intentioned, adequately educated professors who imposed their methods of critique and buzzwords upon my reading comprehension Can t I just read something for enjoyment And then I looked at my giant stack of graphic novels about superheroes and found some brief inner peace.Dean and I finished reading the book He took it home I went online and ordered my own copy We talked about it from time to time, mostly when other people were around.In the alonewhile, I sat down on my bed, and reread the book I was not melancholic or depressed It was alonewhile, not necessarily selfindulgentwhile or ennuiwhile This time I was whiskeyless Or, rather, my liver was in the bedroom and the whiskey was safe in the kitchen My mouth was too exhausted from a night of laughing to run in the direction of alcohol The moment you die, you cease to have hangovers, a car that breaks down, an unfaithful wife, an allergy to the moon, bad cholesterol, debts, loud neighbors, memory loss, short legs, a malicious confessor, et cetera, et ceteraSo let s be positive There were two pages left in my reread and I opened up my computer to order the other Wroblewski book I could find online I remembered that Elizabeth was planning on going to Denmark to see a Wroblewski gallery show I wondered what sort of visual art he created Paintings Photographs His own poems carved in the remnants of his childhood home which he burned to the ground on his fortieth birthday this is not a thing he did, as far as I know I could have easily looked it up online, but decided I wanted to continue my ignorance of his non poetry life.Should I ask Elizabeth to pick up any of his books that might not be available in the US Oh Right They would be written in Polish, which is not a language I speak.I thought of my friend, Peter, who is also Polish and who speaks Polish and thought about asking Elizabeth to buy a book in Polish, and then asking Peter to translate it for me How broken would the sounding of words become when a fluent of both languages man is given no time to make translation poetic Sadly, Elizabeth didn t end up going to Poland I didn t have anything for Peter to translate For me to repurpose and tell Dean or anyone else who d heard our praises of The James Tate of Poland, of the improper translations that existed purely in my memory and in the residue on Peter s fingers or tongue I couldn t decide whether I d appreciate the ephemera of him just reading it aloud, or giving him just enough time to sit down and write it out Soon, my imaginary translation fantasy gave way to the routine dread of actual memories of reality These then shaded my vision of future interactions with people I tolerated but didn t enjoy being around I went to work I wasn t entirely unhappy I left work to eat something I probably ate twice a week because sometimes you just eat something Something Someone that happens to be close to you I went home and petted cats Sat in the colossal clutter of books and dirty laundry that I called a bedroom I saw that my mother had left a voicemail, and debated calling her back I opened a bag of chips instead.For dinner, I went to the pizza place with the mediocre food and insufferable staff I nodded and monosyllabically answered their overly cheerful questions in exchange for leeching the wifi from laundromat next door I realized I should have forgone the food for actually cleaning the laundry I still had time to go home and remedy the situation Instead I said Yea to a question I did not actually hear I read an e mail I immediately wished I hadn t There was so much humanity coming at me via machine, I couldn t look away My phone rang I did not look to see who was calling I went home to find that one rebellious cat had taken a shit directly to the left of the litterbox Another had vomited a pile of her fur and dinner directly in front of my bedroom Times will come you ve never even dreamed of I was warned in childhood Unfortunately it was true They came.

  3. says:

    Really difficult to grade this book of prose poetry writings by Polish poet writer Grzegorz Wroblewski It s style is so unique it s too difficult to try and compare it to anyone These are musings, observations, prayers, pleas, anecdotes, all blended fragments of the poet s experience of living in Copenhagen an exile , a migrant, a fellow traveller, whatever he is I don t know enough about East European poetry to give a detailed critique, or even a sketchy one, but I know that the exile theme is a much explored one one s place in the world, in a city, in a soul Wroblewski brings a newness to this, it s shocking and endearing and funny too.I read it very very slowly, a few pages, extracts a week Needs to be savoured, this does.

  4. says:

    There is much to learn from any immigrant story, but the genre s homogenization has caused it to lose some of its luster To everyone s benefit, however, Wr blewski s Kopenhaga, expertly translated from the Polish and introduced by poet Piotr Gwiazda, fits the category only partially In fact, it restores our faith in immigrant literature by insisting that the story be necessarily fragmented, both stylistically and thematically Piotr Florczyk, Santa Monica, CaliforniaThis book was reviewed in the May 2014 issue of World Literature Today Read the full review by visiting our website